"Lights" Jadzia ordered as she entered her apartment. Actually it was Worf's
apartment and she still hadn't gotten used to the fact that they were living
together now. She'd have to talk to him about the decor again. Last time she
had brought it up he had stared at her blankly, unable to realize that having
bat'leths, knives and cutting instruments of all shapes and sizes on every
wall wasn't the sort of decor a newly married Trill wanted in her home.

She stretched her back and groaned. She had been sitting in Ops for six
hours directing what must have been hundreds of freighters and other
starships to and from Bajor and her muscles were stiff. Quark's holosuites
were she usually worked out were all in use, but luckily she had the second
best thing - a latest model workout bench complete with gravity generator
barbells. Jadzia removed the bench from the closet it was stored in and set
it up in the middle of the living room, having pushed the couches out of the
way. The replicator supplied a power pack and she plugged it in. While the
bench powered up, she stripped off her Star Fleet uniform and wore a sweat
absorbent, form hugging, leotard.

Finally she lay down on the bench and the computer controlled, gel-filled
material molded to the shape of her back and began to perform a massage. She
closed her eyes in satisfaction as the stiffness in her muscles eased as the
machine massaged her. Jadzia had been about to workout with the weights, but
she must have been more tired than she had realized because as her muscles
relaxed she dozed off.

* * *

In another room of the apartment, a targ poked at an empty bowl with its
snout. It grunted unhappily when it realized the food was finished. The
pig-like creature with a horn on its forehead paced around the room trying
to find something to eat. The targ was Worf's pet and he kept it because it
reminded him of the time his son Alexander had lived with him. It heard
noises from the other room and it came to the conclusion that its master had
come to feed it. It rushed excitedly towards the door but as time passed and
it didn't open, it decided to go in search of food itself. Though not very
intelligent, the targ had seen Worf press the small panel next to the door
to open it, and by getting up on its hind legs it could just reach it. Since
Worf had never thought that the targ would try to open the door he hadn't
code locked it, so a simple push of a snout was enough to make the door slide
aside.

The targ sniffed the air. Yes, it could smell another creature in the next
room. It didn't smell like its master, but it could provide it with food. It
grunted, and walked towards the smell, its hooves padding soundlessly on the
carpeted floor. The targ was puzzled. The creature was lying down,
motionless, and seemed to be making a rythmic, purring noise which sounded
very similar to the sound of a female targ. It circled the creature warily
because the enticing sound seemed to be coming from the metallic object below
it. The targ was hungry, but that sensation was being replaced with something
else. As it walked around to where the creature's legs were it began to smell
a scent that made it forget its hunger completely. It grunted and sniffed the
air, its large nostrils flaring widely. It was a scent it hadn't smelt in a
long while. It was a scent it barely remembered, but which it found similar
to that it associated with female targs and mating. This time it grunted
louder in excitement as it moved towards the creature's legs and poked at one
of them with its snout. When the leg it had touched fell off the narrow bench
and onto the floor, the targ backed away alarmed, but when the creature
didn't make any further movement it walked towards it again.

The scent that had excited the targ was stronger now that the creature's legs
were apart. The targ moved forward until its snout was only a couple of
inches away from the source of the aroma. Unsatisfied by simply breathing the
smell, the targ stuck out a long, raspy, purple tongue and licked the
creature's skin.

* * *

"Mmmmmmm, Worf," mumbled Jadzia, as she half woke from her sleep. She giggled
as the rough tongue tickled her skin. Jadzia had been having an interesting
dream that involved Dr Bashir, Miles O'Brien and Worf. In her dream she had
been blowing Julian and Miles simultaneously while Worf had been grunting and
sniffing between her legs like an animal. She had wanted him to satisfy her
but he had kept away until now. Without realising that she had woken up,
still thinking she was dreaming, she thought Worf had finally decided to use
his tongue for a bit of cunnilingus.

Jadzia dropped the other leg off the bench to give Worf better access and she
caught her breath as the tongue stopped tickling her thigh's skin and began
to slide roughly over her leotard's thong. "Ooooh" she moaned in pleasure as
the tongue rubbed the material against her pubic area. It was only a matter
of seconds before the cloth began to bunch up into a string that slid between
her parting pussy lips. The rough tongue was in direct contact with her
hairless mound and Jadzia's entire body shivered with each touch. "Ohhh Worf,
don't tease," she said as the tongue busily explored around the edges of her
labia. It was making Jadzia go crazy. She wanted ... no, she needed Worf to
stick his tongue into her cunt. Her wet dreams had aroused her so much that
she wanted to be satisfied immediately instead of their usual foreplay. Maybe
the bunched up leotard was in the way, Jadzia thought. Her fingers quickly
pulled the soaking bit of material aside and held it against her inner thigh.

"Ahhhhh, that's better," Jadzia gasped, sucking in a lungful of air as the
tongue finally slid between her pussy lips, rasping against the thick folds
of well lubcricated vaginal skin. She had never realized that Worf's tongue
was as rough as this before, but it probably was because she felt so
sensitive today. Her eyes were still tightly shut as she enjoyed the
incredible sensations she was experiencing. Deeper and deeper the tongue
went, sliding in and out with slurping noises, almost as if Worf was sucking
at her juices. On occasion he would let out a grunt and blow warm air on her
pussy before sticking his tongue in again. Each time he did this Jadzia went
wild as the breath blew on her exposed clitoris, and she raised her hips
convulsively towards his mouth.

"Worrrrfffff," she cried as his tongue slid into her vagina for the what
seemed like the hundredth time and she came with an intensity that surprised
her. Normally it took much more than a blowjob to get her off. Suddenly she
realized that he hadn't stopped licking her. In fact, he seemed to have
increased the pace at which he was lapping at her wetness. Whatever had
gotten into Worf today? Usually he was so reluctant when it came to
cunnilingus, even confessing to her that he didn't enjoy it much. Now he was
so ... so ... so wild .... she thought, grinning as the last contractions of
her orgasm died down. Jadzia just lay back on the workout bench and continued
to enjoy the incredible tongueing. It would be her turn soon and she'd return
the pleasure with interest.

The door to the apartment in the next room hissed apart without warning and
a voice called, "Jadzia, are you here?"

"Yes, Worf" Jadzia responded automatically ..... then shot straight up into
a sitting position in shock. Worf? How could it be Worf? Worf was here still
busily sucking at her cunt! She looked down, expecting to see Worf's face
grinning up at her, somehow playing a practical joke on her, and instead she
saw the horned head of Worf's pet targ with its long tongue inside her.

"Oh ... fuck ... shit ... rasda'tra inel ..." she cursed in an alien language
that she didn't recall learning because it had been Curzon who had. She
pushed the disgusting targ away with her foot while she continued to curse
under her breath. It grunted with displeasure at having been disturbed from
the nectar it had been tasting and walked away back to its room. Jadzia
grimaced as she saw that the targ's bright purple dick had emerged from its
sheath and was dangling obscenely from beneath the animal. It was actually
longer than Worf's, she thought, and that was saying something. Maybe she
could ... maybe the targ would let her ... she grinned, then berated herself
at having such disgusting thoughts. Whatever had she come to, thinking of sex
with animals. It wasn't as if she didn't have well-hung Worf, or Julian, or
Miles, or Benjamin or any one of several thousand Star Fleet and Bajoran men
aboard Deep Space 9.

She heard Worf walking towards the room she was in and quickly rearranged her
leotard, covering her genital area with the skimpy thong and pretended to be
working out on the exercise bench. Hopefully, that's what Worf would think
when he saw the way she was flushed bright red with a mixture of sexual
arousal and embarrassment. If he knew what his pet targ had just done to her
it would probably end up as mince meat!